Eyeliner
by divine one
Summary: One year of dating one another. Callie and Mark


365 days ago, Callie Torres had asked him out.

On a date.

A real: _you and me_ testing the waters to see if there could be an _us_, date.

And he hadn't regretted a moment – not a second – of the 365 days that had passed since then. Not even – he shuddered inwardly - the first three months of date celibacy.

It had been a year of growth... and pleasure... and heat... and friendship... and love. At least, it had a been a year of love for him.

As he flipped the small velvet box over and over inside his pants pocket he wondered if one year had been long enough to make Callie know **he** was the one.

He was sitting on their living room couch, waiting for Callie to finish putting on her make-up so that they could go over to Alex and Meredith's and his fingers just kept fumbling with the box; nervously trying to add up all of the pluses and the minuses of the thing that was: Torres and Sloan. Sloan and Torres. Callie and Mark. And while his mind told him the pluses way outweighed the minuses; told him that Callie loved him … was IN love with him... his fingers were still trying to do the math of: one year of dating + 259 nights of mind blowing sex (minus the two weeks of his being on sex lock-down because of the Derek-bet incident) + waking up next to the person who was his best friend. Ever.

His damn sexy, best friend.

He blew out a deep puff of air. "Torres!"

"Hold your horses! I'm workin' on it!"

"What's taking so long...?"

"Look, eyeliner is an art and a science... one wrong move and I have to start it all over, so, Sloan, if you want to leave any time in the next five minutes, shut it and let me make myself beautiful."

Mark pulled his hand out f his pocket and ran the warm slightly moist palm along the cloth of his slacks. Fuck it! His plan had been to head over to Mere's and Alex's, hang out with them and Yang and Jackson, and then... at the end of the night. On the way home... he'd planned to stop off at that little Italian restaurant with the tiramisu that she liked... loved. And then... over dessert...

… but he couldn't wait anymore. He just...

Pushing in to the bathroom, he was surrounded by her scent... a little hairspray, the body lotion he'd bought her a couple of months ago, and that Michael Kors cologne that he swore he was going to buy stock in. Callie was leaning in towards the bathroom mirror, eyeliner pencil poised at her eye, her dark hair waving down her shoulders, her cleavage – per usual – enticing him. "Callie?"

"Mark! I told you I'd be just a -"

Her voice trailed off as she looked at his figure reflected in the mirror behind her. His hand was extended and in it rested what looked like a jewelry box. A small jewelry box. The kind that held earrings, or pendant necklaces... or... or...

A "Holy shit...!" slipped past her rouged lips.

"I had a small plan that involved getting you tipsy on alcohol at Grey/Karev's, then getting you happy on tiramisu, then dropping down on one knee in front of a bunch of people so that you would feel compelled to say _yes_... but..." he offered a nervous grin, "I'm an immediate gratification kind of guy."

Callie was still staring back at him through the mirror, her eyes wide. "Are you...? Is that...?" She turned around, her hand still braced against her cheek, eyeliner at the edge of her eyelid.

He flipped the box open.

Her legs wobbled and she reached for the edge of the bathroom counter trying to steady herself. Her eyes moved from the ring... the brilliant, beautiful, 'this woman is taken' ring... up to Mark's face.

"After 365 days, I only want more," he moved into the bathroom and stopped right in front of Callie. Putting the ring on the counter behind her, he lifted his hand to her chin, tilting her head up. "Calliope Iphigenia Torres, will you marry me and spend the next..." he did some quick math, "18000 days of your life with me?"

Her eyes welled up and a smile slowly stretched across her face... she was happy. He gave a silent sigh of relief, only flinching slightly when Callie bunched up her fist and lightly hit him on the chest. "In the bathroom Mark? You ask me in the bathroom?"

"I couldn't wait anymore; maybe if someone had moved a little faster getting ready?"

Her fisted hand smoothed against the cloth of his shirt, soothing the non-existent pain she'd inflicted.

"So..., you haven't actually said yes... or no... yet."

She closed her eyes for just a second then opened them, stood on her tip toes, brushed her lips against his and whispered, "Yes. Yes. Yes. Ye-".

Mark pulled Callie closer, tasting the rest of her 'yeses' in a kiss.


End file.
